


A Most Awesome Soccer Coach

by dugindeep (hotsauce)



Series: soccer 'verse [1]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Football | Soccer, Kid Fic, M/M, Past Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-27
Updated: 2014-01-27
Packaged: 2018-01-10 06:21:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1156173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hotsauce/pseuds/dugindeep
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen coaches pee wee soccer, coaches Jared's kid, and he's definitely not crushing on Jared. Seriously, he's not. Except, he totally is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Most Awesome Soccer Coach

Jensen loves soccer. It carried him through college with a hefty scholarship. He’s watched every World Cup from the quiet of his home so he can hear every bit of commentary. He keeps his league trophies up in his office with medals cascading down the front, telling the tale of his youth. 

But right now, what brings him the most joy is watching his fall pee wee team sprint across the grassy field, all battling the ball with tiny feet and not even considering to … “Pass the ball!” he yells to the crowd of blue shirts being swarmed on by a bunch of yellow shirts. “You guys are on the same team! Pass the ball! Go to Chrissy! Chrissy’s open!”

He hears a few giggles from behind him and he just nods, knowing that the parents are usually more amused by the goofy play than anything else their children could do. And he pretty much is, too. He shakes his head, chuckling to himself before he calls out, “Junior! Get the ball to Junior!”

The kids finally break free with the ball and Nathan leads the charge, kicking the ball ahead of him while working his way to the left and away from yellow defenders. “Keep going! C’mon Nathan! Shoot the ball!”

Nathan, a few inches above the crowd with gangly legs and messy hair, keeps charging forward. He isn’t their strongest player, not by far. But he can sprint like the devil and his size intimidates enough of the competition to give him some space. When he kicks at the ball, he barely gets a toe on it and a yellow shirt charges in to steal it, knocking Nathan to the ground.

“Oh, geez,” Jensen groans, covering his face with a wide hand that finally slips over his mouth as he watches the other team take the ball down and slink between his blue defenders before smacking it right into the net. Yellow shirts dance about and blue shirts frown. Jensen claps and calls out to the kids to get back to the center, get ready for the next play. He sees how red-faced Nathan is and he immediately calls him over, nudging Isabelle out to take his place. As Nathan passes, he scruffs up the kid’s hair and smiles. “Good play, Nathan.”

He screws his mouth up. “I didn’t get it in.”

Jensen rubs once more and looks back to the field. “You will next time. Take a breather. You’ll go back in.”

He keeps cheering on his team, calling out plays, switching the order up and letting everyone play. But it’s a little sad for him to see the team come off the field after the final whistle. Chrissy pouts. “We lost, didn’t we?”

The corner of his mouth tugs just so, amused by her little attitude. “Yeah, we did,” he replies gravely, nodding his head. Her head nods slowly and then drops down as she marches to her parents, like it’s the worst news in the world. 

He claps his hands, gets all the kids crowded around him, and bends at the waist to get close to them. “Alright, guys. You played hard today. I’m _so_ proud of you,” he beams with meaning. “Everyone hustled and you guys really put ‘em on the run. That’s awesome.” Jensen reaches out with both arms, pinching at Ryan and Samantha’s shirts with a smirk. “And you two. Awesome on defense. Give it up high,” and he raises both hands to give them five.

“But we lost,” Chrissy points out.

Jensen nods and shifts towards her for a moment before taking in the entire team. “Yes, we did. But it was a great effort.”

“But we lost,” she repeats, legs spread wide and arms crossed. 

He wants to laugh, but doesn’t think embarrassing a seven-year-old is a good idea right now. “Well, yes, Chrissy. But it was just one to zero. Very close game.” She sighs and turns to shrug at her parents, who are amused by her. He claps his hands again and stands up. “Okay, practice Wednesday? Game next Saturday at noon. Make sure you’re here early enough to practice and now …” He eyes them seriously until they all stare back. 

Each eye lights up and suddenly the kids jump up with arms in the air and the whole group shouts, “Snacks!”

“Snacks!” he cheers along with them then moves away so they can run over to whichever parent brought the juice boxes and fruit snacks. 

“Coach Ackles?”

“ _Jensen_ ,” he immediately corrects as he looks down to Nathan. Coach and Ackles always make him shiver into thinking he’s so much older than he is. 

“Jensen,” Nathan nods. 

He smiles. “What’s up, buddy?”

Nathan bites his lip and starts to curl his fingers into the hem of his shirt. “I might be late on Wednesday.”

Jensen looks up to Nathan’s mom, a petite brunette who’s moving closer. He looks back to Nathan and asks easily, “How late you think you’re gonna be?”

One quick look to his mom then back to Jensen and it’s like his face shrugs for him. “I dunno. My mom has work and my dad does, too. But my uncle might drop me off? I dunno.”

He winks at Nathan’s mom then places a hand at Nathan’s shoulder. “You get here when you get here, okay?”

“You sure?”

“No problem,” Jensen shrugs. He pats at Nathan’s shoulder. “We’ll fit you in.”

“I don’t wanna miss it.”

His eyebrows crinkle at how serious Nathan is. “Don’t worry about it. Okay?”

“Nathan, why don’t you get your jacket?” his mom calls out sweetly. She pats his head as he runs past her to where their things are stacked onto a bucket chair. There’s a trace of a frown as she moves closer to Jensen. “I’m sorry. I’m trying to work out something to get him here earlier. I have a meeting and – ”

“Hey,” Jensen cuts in, waving a hand out. “No problem. It ain’t the majors or anything. He’ll still play.”

She twists her hands together while she smiles. “He’s just real excited about soccer. I didn’t think he would be, but he just jumped right in.”

Jensen smiles and nods. “He’s a good kid. He’s doing good.” And he means it, because Jensen’s seen a lot of kids float in and out of these pee wee leagues lacking so much and hardly paying attention to the ball. Yeah, Nathan could be better, but he tries and that’s what pleases Jensen most.

She nods and looks back at Nathan for a moment before facing Jensen. “Yeah. Gosh, I just … it’s hard. Kids these days.”

He laughs, knowing how many trouble children he’s seen and have had talk back to him. He’s grateful this is a good year with a great bunch of children. “Yeah, kids,” he nods. 

*

At Wednesday practices, Jensen runs the kids through basic ball handling drills, has them do a few runs through kicking at the goal then sets them up for a quick scrimmage. 

Nathan comes charging up, all but knocking Jensen out at the legs. He laughs down on the kid, holding him at the back before righting him. “Watch it, boy. I ain’t got rubber legs,” he laughs. 

“Sorry, sorry,” he beams up at him. His chest is heaving and he’s practically panting. “I’m here. We ran all the way, I’m here.”

Jensen rests his hand at the top of Nathan’s head, trying to not be disgusted by the sweat already soaking his hair. He watches the two teams play each other and asks, “You run all the way from home?” with humor in his voice.

“No!” Nathan argues, pushing weak hands at Jensen’s leg. “From the parking lot. _Duh_.”

“How could I be so _stupid_?” Jensen shrugs down on him, big, dorky smile he’s sure. Because this kid always cracks him up with his enthusiasm. 

“Can I play, huh?” Nathan asks, while jumping from one foot to the other. 

He takes inventory of the field and directs Nathan to play forward alongside Junior, knowing it’s just scrimmage so it doesn’t matter much if there’s an extra player out there. 

Nathan nods, seriously, and says, “Right-o.” Jensen watches as he pulls his hoodie off and turns to toss it behind him. “Hold this. I’m going in.”

The guy who’d come up with Nathan grabs it easily and grins. “Go get ‘em, peanut!”

Jensen just stares, because Lord Almighty, this guy is a good six-and-a-half feet of muscle and a bit more of tanned face, crooked smiles, and some rather unruly hair that’s begging to be grabbed. He’s shaken from the leer when Nathan calls out, haughty, as he jogs onto the field, “Dad!”

“Alrighty, tiger,” the guy calls back with a laugh. 

He swallows, can’t do anything but swallow and stare back at the field. He crosses his arms tightly and crosses his eyes for a moment, willing the burn in his stomach to stop. Because that is definitely _not_ the hottest guy he’s ever seen, and is most definitely Nathan’s _dad_. He can’t crush on him, can _not_. His first year coaching in the league, he developed a tiny, little attraction to one of the girls’ fathers and he wound up all-but ignoring the guy, no matter how often he tried to talk to Jensen about Abby’s play.

At the end of the scrimmage, Nathan charges back and runs right into his dad’s arms with the same speed and push that he’d run into Jensen’s legs. But his dad easily swoops him up into the air, holding him high off the ground. “You did great, tiger!”

“Did you see?” Nathan shrieks as his dad pulls him down at his hip. He starts flapping his open palm against his dad’s shoulder, begging for a high five. “I almost scored a goal. I got real close. And Ryan blocked it, but what if he didn’t? I could’ve totally gotten it in!”

Jensen’s smiling, doesn’t even realize how dumb it is until Isabelle’s (single) mom taps him on the shoulder with a knowing smirk. “I see we have a new soccer dad,” she nearly sing-songs.

He turns towards her, running a hand over his head and down until he scratches at his neck. “Nathan’s dad,” he says matter-of-factly. His head tips to the side. “Something you need?”

The mom is barely hiding the fact that she’s checking out Nathan and his father as they walk away, the dad holding Nathan by the hands and swinging him forward and back as he takes long strides through the park. “Didn’t know Nathan had a dad.”

Jensen moves around to gather up the soccer balls and orange cones into his mesh bag. “I’m pretty sure everyone has a dad. Barring modern science.”

“Mmhmm,” she sounds out with a bright smile, and Jensen’s both horrified and comforted that someone else finds Nathan’s dad attractive. At least he’s not imagining things and overreaching in how good looking the guy is. 

He’s left to himself when all the kids run off with their parents, but he can still see Nathan at the jungle gym, climbing up his father’s back and leaping to the monkey bars before his dad jumps up, grabs a bar himself and … literally monkeys around with him. 

Jensen shakes his head, trying so hard to not care, to not see how playful they both are. But it’s beyond hard to ignore.

*

It gets worse that Saturday when Nathan’s dad shows up halfway through the game and settles in next to his mom. His voice is loud and happy, cheering out to his child so many times, no matter how close he is the ball, or how badly he shuffles the ball around the field, or even when he utterly whiffs at kicking the ball at the goal. 

At the end of the game, Jensen gives his pep talk, trying to ignore Chrissy’s deathglares and simple, “We lost. Again.”

“Win or lose? You all played _great_ ,” Jensen smiles for them all, and they seem to forget she’s even said anything. “We got two goals, and you only let three through. So close!” He ruffles Ryan’s head when the kid looks to the ground, looking guilty for letting the last goal past him. “You’re all doing great. I’m so proud of you guys. And girls,” he smirks when Chrissy pouts. “Girls, too. You’re all getting better and faster. On Wednesday we’ll work on charging the net more, okay?” he asks with a wink and a little flick to Nathan’s shirt. 

Nathan chuckles and beams. “Yeah!”

“Alright, guys … girls,” he tacks on again, but with a little less smile. “You know what now?”

“Snacks!” the children shout out and he says “Snacks, yeah,” less excited than them, and just smiling at them all running off to this week’s parents with the box of Capri Suns and Cheetos.

“Coach Ackles?” Jensen smirks with a tip of his head, and Nathan quickly amends. “Jensen? Jensen. I might be late again, but Dad promises we won’t be as bad.”

He pats Nathan’s shoulder and looks up to his mom and dad talking and nodding a bit before his mom perks up and calls, “Hey, sweetie. You bothering your coach?”

Before the conversation can go further, Jensen pats Nathan’s shoulder again. “That’s cool. But if it’s gonna be a weekly thing, let me know, okay?”

“Yeah! Thanks,” Nathan beams. He moves away but runs right back. “Jensen!”

“Yeah?”

He pokes a finger into Jensen’s shirt and Jensen looks down but doesn’t see the tiny fist knock up into his nose. He covers his face as Nathan giggles. “Gotcha!”

Jensen swipes down his face and tries to hide his blush. “Yeah, alright, buddy.”

He also tries to ignore how awesome Nathan’s dad’s smile is. Or how he laughs at the boy and hoists him up the air, over his head, and onto his shoulders like the boy were a feather. 

*

On Wednesday, Nathan once again charges over and knocks into Jensen’s legs, laughing hysterically and red-faced. Jensen groans, because that impact was a bit more than before, but he easily grabs hold of the kid and sweeps him into the air for a long swoop across his body, landing on his other side. “Boy, you gotta watch yourself,” Jensen laughs. 

Nathan giggles and pokes Jensen in the side. “I beat my dad all the way here.” He leans a little closer, pressing against Jensen’s thigh and pushing hands into his side. “He’s kinda slow.”

“Think it’s the long legs,” Jensen nods, patting Nathan and smirking. “Trips him up.”

Nathan nods and frowns, looking far beyond his years. “He is a giant beast.”

“Hey!” Nathan’s dad laughs while smacking at Nathan’s butt. “A little less picking on your father. Little more soccer.”

“Yes, sir!” Nathan calls out as he jogs onto the field to joins his team, running a long sequence of kicking balls into the net. 

“Sorry for his energy. He’s a little wired about soccer.”

Jensen crosses his arms tight and only manages a tiny peek to Nathan’s dad. He nods then bites into his lips to stop the smile. “It is the world’s greatest sport.”

“So he says,” Nathan’s dad smiles and nods towards the field. “Starting to think you’re just brainwashing him.”

“When you get ‘em this young, it’s not hard,” Jensen smirks with a glance up at the guy. They’re both nodding and smiling and Jensen adds, “At least it isn’t golf. Little clubs aren’t little on the wallet.”

“Jesus, yes. Thank you,” he replies, smacking at Jensen’s upper arm with a smile. “Been trying to tell Sandy that forever. Kid can’t swing a bat and then she said football, but I argued over pads and helmets. How many moms you know _beg_ for their children to knock heads with a bunch of kids?”

Jensen can’t stop smiling now, but he can turn to the field and not look at the guy. He just listens to him ramble on and on about the different sports they wanted to get Nathan into and how they readily agreed on soccer, figuring it was fairly low-contact and easy on the budget. It is cheap since kids only have to get shinguards and bottoms while the shirts and matching socks are provided by the park district. But to prove the rest of the point, Jensen grimaces as Nathan runs up to kick a ball at the net and completely misses it, landing on the ground. 

“Oh, jeez,” his dad groans. Jensen laughs and looks over to the guy covering his face with both hands, barely peeking above his fingertips to see Nathan rolling over and slowly rising with a smile. Kid’s always smiling. “That’s my kid.”

“Yeah, it is,” Jensen chuckles while looking down to the ground and shuffling his feet. 

“My kid can’t play."

He swallows and tries to not laugh at how pathetic the guy’s voice is. “He can play fine.”

“Nathan’s Charlie Brown. He’s never gonna kick that football.”

Jensen smirks and sounds out with proper accents, “Futbol.” 

He manages to ignore the amused grin long enough to hand out netted jerseys and set the kids into two teams to scrimmage. But it’s not enough time to make him forget about the guy and how much they’d been joking around, how easy it was. “So, you one of those coaches who tells kids when they suck, or you one of the ones who just smiles and hugs and gets all touchy feely about everyone playing?”

With one eyebrow up high, he says flat, “I’m pretty sure touchy feely with the kids is illegal.”

“Right,” he laughs. “Yeah.” There’s a pause that’s uncomfortable in how long it lasts compared to how much the guy'd been chattering. Until he turns to Jensen and holds a hand out. “I’m Jared, by the way.”

Jensen nods, looks at the hand, and against his better judgment, shakes it. “Jensen.”

“Coach Jensen, alright.”

He bristles and pulls his hand away, _so_ not registering how warm the palm had been or how firm the hold was. “Just Jensen’s fine.”

“Just Jensen, alright,” he smirks and nods, and Jensen’s doing his best to not register that either.

*

Jensen’s nearly screaming, he’s getting so excited and he’s moving fast down the sidelines. “Nathan! Go Nathan! C’mon! Keep going!”

Seconds later, Nathan kicks lamely at the ball and a few green shirts get in the way but he keeps right on going. He’s shuffling forward, pushing the ball closer and closer until he finally cocks his leg back and smacks the crap out of the ball, forcing it between defenders and into the net with a swoosh. 

He’s jumping up, raising his hands and yelling, and it doesn’t even register how ridiculous it is until he realizes he’s reacting like all the kids on the field are, so he stops. He clears his throat and claps with a low voice. “Alright! Good job, Nathan! Let’s get back on defense.”

When the game is over, he watches Nathan, sees him sprinting off the field and right into his father’s arms, which heave him right up into a crushing hug. “Daddy! Did you see? I scored!”

“You did, peanut,” Jared beams, popping Nathan up and down in his arms. “You scored, baby!”

“And we won. It was seven to two. We had the seven and they had the two!”

Jensen laughs, so much louder than he thought he would. It catches their attention and Nathan’s still beaming while Jared’s smiling gently and Nathan’s mom (whose name is Sandy, as Jared let out during all his rambling at practice), is eyeing him with a crooked smile. He just waves and smiles. “He did great.”

Sandy moves closer to the boy, soothing a hand over his back. “We’re so proud of you, baby. You did so good!”

He can’t stop watching the scene. How perfect they all look together, and happy. So happy. All bright smiles, and it looks like Jared’s got wet eyes as he swipes a hand over Nathan’s hair, pushing it off his forehead before he leans in to kiss at his temple. 

Jensen swallows and turns immediately. “I am so screwed,” he mutters as he moves to his things.

*

“We’re early!” 

Jensen laughs at Nathan’s cry as he and his dad show up just minutes before practice starts. “That you are, buddy.” He pats Nathan’s back and calls out to everyone. “Alright, two laps around the field, then some dribbling around the cones!”

“Jensen?”

He turns to Chrissy’s firm voice. “Yes, Chrissy?”

“We won last week.”

There’s a nod and a hidden smile, but Jensen says firmly, “That we did.”

She eyes him for a few seconds and then says, “You think we’ll win this week?”

He smirks and pats her back. “I think we’ll do okay. Go on, join the team.”

“Okay? Man, you’ve got great confidence.”

Jensen smirks again, nodding at Jared. “Hey, Jared,” he says, instead of something stupid like _wow, you’re insanely hot in that sweater_ or _please tell me you’re on the verge of a gay crisis and gonna leave your wife?_. Yeah, Jensen’s been having some manic dreams lately.

“Just Jensen,” he nods back. 

He chuckles at the name. There’s a slow burn in his belly and his mouth feels tight as he fights more smiles. So, he decides today would be a good day for more interactive coaching and jogs out to the center of the field. 

*

Saturday, the team wins 3-2 on the cusp of another late-in-the-game, if-it-weren’t-so-cute-it’d-be-pathetic goal from Nathan. Jensen does his best to ignore how insanely happy Nathan is as he runs into Jared’s arms, screeching over and over about how awesome this game was and how he scored the winning goal.

His chest burns and feels tight, seeing all the elation there, but he has to ignore it. Has to. 

“Jensen?”

He looks down to Chrissy and is actually happy to see her serious little face. “Yes?”

“We won today.”

“Yes, we did,” he nods then eyes her. She’s still awfully serious. “Are you not happy that we did?”

“You said we’d do okay.”

Jensen looks up and around for her parents but all he sees are Jared and Nathan smiling at him. He works his mouth for a second before turning back to Chrissy. “Yes, and we did.”

“No, we didn’t.” His eyebrows go high and he’s startled when she suddenly grins and shrieks, “We did _awesome_!”

His smile feels more scared than happy, but he goes with it. “Yeah, Chrissy, you’re right. We did awesome.”

She shrieks more as she half-runs, half-bounces over to her parents. 

“Think she’s in beginning stages bi-polar?”

Jensen turns to Jared, who’s Nathan-less and smiling. He looks around for the boy and spots him retrieving his snacks. His voice is mock-serious. “Yeah, I don’t want to label her.”

“She scares you doesn’t she?”

“Absolutely.”

Jared laughs, patting a hand at Jensen’s back. “Say, Nathan and I are getting ice cream. Big goal,” he adds with wide eyes and a nod.

“Yes, I know. I saw it,” he nods right back. “Would like to take credit for it, really.”

He laughs again. “You wanna join us?”

Jensen sobers and stares, no longer able to ignore the wide smile or the bright eyes of the man before him. He swallows, so knowing he should just say no, because there’s no way this is what he thinks it is. Jared is the only father who shows up to practice, the only parent who isn’t glued to a blackberry when the scores don’t count. He’s an active father, and interested in Nathan and is just getting to know the adults in his life and most of all, Jensen’s mind rambles on, he’s _married_.

“Do you have an aversion to dairy products? I do believe they have Icees there, too.”

He snaps out of it and gives a small smile, ready to say _no, thanks_ when Nathan runs over, bouncing right off of Jared’s legs with a little “umph,” and they’re all laughing. “We going, dad? I want hot fudge and sprinkles!”

“Okay, peanut,” he says fondly, combing through Nathan’s hair. “Just trying to convince your coach to join us.”

Nathan’s eyes light up like the sun and he’s jumping up and down, grabbing onto Jensen’s hand. “Oh, my God! Yes, yes! You have to come! They have rainbow sprinkles and waffle cones dipped in more chocolate!”

Jensen laughs and tugs on Nathan’s hands then looks up to Jared. “I’m not so sure you should add sugar to this.”

Jared’s head tips a little and his smile is small. “He’ll be fine. You should come.”

Nathan pulls on Jensen’s hands some more and his heart warms at the attention, at the tiny hands wrapping around his fingers and he smiles gently at the boy. “Think they got Snickers?”

His face lights up again. “Oh, my _gawd_! They have a gazillion pounds of it!”

*

Jensen would say it’s the sugar shock of ice cream and snickers and hot fudge and whip cream, but he’s pretty sure it’s just the way that Jared so effortlessly handles Nathan and makes him smile, and goofs around, like he was born to be a father. Because Jensen can’t stop smiling and laughing at the two as they clown around in the other side of the booth. Nathan keeps pushing himself into Jared’s lap, wiggling his body around and digging his spoon into Jared’s bowl of ice cream. 

Jared pushes the kid away, looking like he’s manhandling him, but it’s all for fun and not all that forceful. He cuts a firm hand across the table, splitting the space between them. “You are grounded to that side of the table,” Jared laughs. “You just eat your sprinkle cone and I’ll eat my Chunky Monkey.”

“It’s _Funky_ Monkey,” Nathan nearly whines. “There’s no nuts so there’s nothing _chunky_ about it.”

He moves closer to Nathan, pushing his nose and forehead into the kid's face. “Know-it all.”

Nathan pushes right back, crossing his eyes. “Smartest kid in the second grade.”

“Gosh, so cocky, too,” Jared huffs, playfully annoyed and swiping a hand at Nathan’s head. “No idea where you get that from.”

He’s settled back in the booth, pressed against Jared, and focusing on his own ice cream. “Mama says I get it from you.”

Jared looks up to Jensen with a smirk as he rings an arm around Nathan, palm settling at his chest. “Your mama says a lot of things.”

“She says you quit Misha again.” Nathan looks up with a simple smile. “Did you really?”

He rubs over Nathan’s head before forcing him back to his cone. “Think you shouldn’t _always_ listen to your mama.” Jared looks to Jensen and shrugs awkwardly. “Kids got ears.”

“Most do,” Jensen nods, not even knowing how to respond to the entire situation. He’s so awed by how adorable Nathan and Jared are together, but he knows he should keep his distance because there’s nothing good to come from this. 

And he’s further silent when Nathan bounds off to the bathrooms and Jared folds his hands on the table and shifts. “Misha was an ex,” he shrugs awkwardly. “I don’t know how to keep Nathan from knowing what goes on, but he hears things.”

It’s a rough swallow of his ice cream, hurting in the way his muscles mismanage it and then way too cold in his throat. “An ex?” He motions his spoon at Jared. “I thought … you and Sandy?”

Jared shakes his head quickly. “Oh, no. Big D. Been a few years now. That’s why we have troubles getting him around to soccer since we’re never in the same place at the same time. You’d think it’d be easier, having two different parents and cars and houses but it’s just that much harder,” he rattles off. And by now, Jensen can tell this is what he does when he’s nervous. 

Jensen works his throat through the rest of his ice cream and then says weakly, “Sorry? I feel like I should say sorry.”

He smirks and waves a hand. “No, it’s fine. Like I said, a few years. And it was kinda over a few years before that. But it ended okay enough. Neither of us wanted to screw Nathan up. It would’ve given me an even bigger guilt trip for ending it.”

The questions are on the tip of his tongue but Nathan launches himself across the bench and jumps at Jared with a big growl and they playfully fight arms away until Nathan gets a slap to Jared’s face and giggles like there is nothing else in the world as funny. It wasn’t that loud, and likely not even hurtful, but Jared tugs on Nathan’s hands with a low, “Hey, buddy, you’re playing too rough now.”

“Sorry,” Nathan frowns as he slinks down against Jared and rests his head at Jared’s arm. 

Jensen frowns then, too, seeing how dejected he is. He wonders if Nathan ever gets reprimanded by Jared, because he seems like he's the goofy, drop-in parent who brings all the fun. He leans forward and pushes his cup across the table. “You know, Nathan? Think you played well enough for two scoops. What d’ya say?”

Nathan’s head tips up to Jared’s and waits for his response. He shifts and raises his arm so Nathan can rest against him and he rubs at Nathan’s shoulder while rolling his eyes at Jensen. “You’re killing me, man.”

He smirks and nudges the cup closer with a wink. “I think that’s a yes, dude.” 

Another hour creeps by as Jensen watches Jared and Nathan play around. He gets little tidbits about Nathan’s school and how he’s number one in the math program and he also wants to play tee ball, but his mom said one sport at a time, so come spring he might do that. But he asks Jensen about more soccer leagues. 

“Yeah, we got a spring league. But also some winter practices,” he nods back to Nathan before looking to Jared. “At the dome, they have some weekend seminars.”

“Do you coach those, too?” Nathan asks excitedly. 

He smirks back. “Yeah, I got some of those. Think you wanna do that?”

“Do I have to listen to you all the time or will there be other adults to boss me around?”

Jensen laughs at Nathan’s tiny smile and looks for a second at Jared. “Depends. You gonna bring that goofy mug around my fields?”

“No way!” he yells as he sits up with a huge grin. “I’m like the new MVP. I’m your new high scorer. You can’t _not_ play me. _Hafta_.”

He laughs some more and catches Jared’s smile. It’s comforting but distracting. He should really stop looking at him. 

When they get to the parking lot, Jared’s grinning as he pushes Nathan up into the driver’s side of the truck. “Don’t go too far, ya hear?” he instructs with a finger while his other hand turns over the keys.

“Okay, dad,” Nathan sighs as he turns the keys over to accessories so he can play with the radio. 

Jared quietly closes the door and turns to Jensen. “I had a nice time,” he nods.

Jensen’s hands go right into his pockets and smiles as he looks around the lot, trying so hard to not focus on how contagious Jared’s smiles are. “Yeah. Thanks for inviting me.” When he looks back to Jared, the smile is smaller and his bottom lips slowly flips in as he bites it. Jensen nearly shrugs. “What’s up?”

“We should do this again.”

His head tips to the side for a quick second. “I’m sorry?”

Jared’s hands go to his pockets and he’s subconsciously mimicking Jensen, going so far as the rock so slightly back and forth. “Get ice cream, or a snack. After the games.”

Jensen’s heart starts to pick up, beating so wildly. “I, uh,” he lamely says, because he’s not sure what Jared’s really asking him. 

“No, it’s cool,” Jared cuts right in, waving a hand. “Don’t worry. I bet you shouldn’t spend too much time with any of the kids,” he rambles quickly as he turns to the truck and opens the door. “Don’t want people to think you’re playing favorites with Nathan. It’s fine.”

There’s nothing more than a quick goodbye before Jared’s starting the car and leaving the parking lot, but Jensen doesn’t move until they’re out of sight.

*

Sandy drops Nathan off at practice and Jensen’s cursing himself for the drop of his stomach, for the disappointment running around his brain. She gives him a tight smile as she approaches even while they’re both watching Nathan run across the field to join the team in running laps.

“Nathan said you guys got ice cream?” she asks carefully.

He turns quickly and stares down, unable to say much more. 

“I don’t mind. I think you’re good with the kids. Just … ”

His stomach turns over itself and he feels like this is his worst nightmare. A parent thinking he’s close, _too close_ , and is going to start saying something to other parents. “No, look. It was just. We just sat, ate ice cream. I barely talked to him,” he says quickly, then curses himself for how ridiculous that sounds. “I just watched him and Jared. Talked to Jared a bit.”

She nearly frowns. “Yeah, I know.” Her head tips to the side and she throws a quick glance to the field, to Nathan, before turning back and looking guilty. “You think that I think something happened?”

Jensen coughs and takes a deep breath. “How about you just say what you think happened then we can talk it out?”

“I think Jared likes you,” she says. Plain as day. Like it’s no big deal. 

He swallows, and Jesus, how is his mouth always so dry when he’s thinking about or talking to Jared. He really needs to drink more water. 

Sandy’s head turns a bit, like she’s judging him from the corner of her eye. “You didn’t … you’re not, are you?”

“Aren’t what?”

Her mouth tightens, like she doesn’t want to say it, and she looks more uncomfortable when she has to glance around to see if anyone is within distance to hear them. “Jared and I separated when he realized he was gay.” Then she runs on quickly, as if she has to say something nice after dropping that bomb. “He’s a total sweetheart and a wonderful father. But you know, not so much in liking women.”

Jensen stares for a good amount of time until his mouth can finally work out, “Yeah, I … ” Then he stalls and can’t get the rest out. Instead he says, “I’m Nathan’s coach.”

“I know,” she frowns. “That’s the thing. Just … I don’t want Nathan to get … I don’t want him in the middle. You know?”

He runs a hand over his head and scratches hard nails into his scalp the whole way. “Yeah. That’d be … That could be bad.”

Sandy’s fingers curl over themselves as she watches Nathan jog around the field and chase a ball with a few other kids, uncoordinated but laughing brilliantly. “He barely met Misha before they broke up. I don’t think he knows better but … ” Her voice softens and she smiles sadly. “He really likes soccer. And he really likes you. I don’t want it to be ruined.”

Jensen clears his throat and nods, feeling his professionalism kick right back into place. “No, yeah. I know. I totally understand. Don’t worry.” He waves a hand in the air between them. “Nothing happened. I swear. Just ice cream. Don’t worry.”

She nods again, still with a sad smile. “Not that I don’t want Jared to be happy, but Nathan’s everything.”

He nods, and understands. And he realizes his heart is crushed just minutes after hearing that Jared actually likes him.

*

It’s hard on Saturday to watch the game while being so aware of Jared on the sidelines. His loud voice, his happy laughter at the shenanigans on the field when kids trip over one other and kick the ball into each other’s legs, and spectacularly fail at properly kicking the ball into the goal. 

The black team is running their team ragged, even if they’re not scoring. They’re all quick with tiny legs and even quicker reactions to the ball changing directions all over the field. All his kids are getting winded and he’s doing his best to shuffle them in and out so they get enough rest. And it’s all he can do to not frown when he calls for Nathan. It’s the first time in weeks he’s asked him to come out, but the kid’s cheeks are fire engine red and his chest is heaving way too much. 

Nathan’s all whimpers as he shuffles off the field and Jensen tries for a smile as he swipes a hand over his head. “You’re doing good, buddy. Just get some air, alright?”

“Alright,” he mumbles as he moves over to Sandy and Jared. 

Jensen tries to not watch too much, but he sees from the corner of his eye when Nathan just watches the field and Jared comes up right behind him. His arms reach down to hug Nathan, and his hands rub over the kid’s stomach, trying to tickle and laugh. Nathan’s fighting it, but he does lean back against Jared and holds into Jared’s wrists. Jared leans further forward, his head upside down to Nathan’s as he smiles so brightly and says something about being proud of him – Jensen can only hear so much – and then pops a kiss on his forehead, ignoring how Nathan weakly protests to the affection.

They win again, bringing their record to 4-4 with just two games left. Everyone’s happy with the last few games, the wins and how happy all the kids have been after each one. The parents glad-hand Jensen and dish out thank yous as they move off the field and Jensen tries to get a few things off the ground before the next teams come for the next game. 

When he stands up, Jared’s there on his own. Jensen looks around for Sandy and Nathan, but Jared just clears his throat. “Sandy’s weekend. They’re going to Chucky Cheese.”

“Man,” Jensen shakes his head with a tight smile that wants to break wide. “Pizza, talking animals, and a ball pit. Don’t think ice cream can compete.”

“Yeah, I know. She’s always undermining me,” Jared laughs. But Jensen stiffens, remembering the conversation from Wednesday’s practice. “You wanna grab lunch?”

Jensen fumbles with the edges of his ball bag and mashes his lips together. His heart thumps against his chest and he knows what he wants to say, but knows what he should. He shrugs oddly. “I’m Nathan’s coach, ya know?”

Jared’s face tightens and he shrugs awkwardly. “It’s just lunch.”

He shakes his head a little, “I don’t think it’s just lunch.” Jensen sees how Jared’s throat bulges with a rough swallow and how he fights to remain smiling, but it’s difficult and it makes Jensen feel so guilty. “I’d like to,” he says gently. “But I think it might be better if we don’t.”

It takes a few seconds for Jared to reply, but then he’s nodding with a stern face. “No, you’re right. Absolutely. I’m sorry I put you in an uncomfortable position.”

Jensen looks to the ground and the bag of balls before he tries lightly, “Nathan got a ball at home?”

Jared’s head shakes and his face clears, like an etch-a-sketch, and his smile is light and thoughtful, like he’s only focused on his son right now. “At Sandy’s, yeah.”

He reaches in and palms a ball that he tosses to Jared. “He could use some work on his dribbling.”

The ball starts bouncing on the ground as Jared works it like a basketball. “I thought no hands?” he asks with a smirk.

Jensen moves forward, punching his foot down as the ball hits the ground and he ably shuffles it back and pops it between his feet. He taps the top of the ball then rolls his foot down, drawing the ball towards him as he backs up. He tucks his toes just beneath it and pops it up into the air, catching it in one hand. He knows he’s smirking, and that it’s a little smug. “Dribbling.”

Jared smiles as he catches the ball Jensen launches over. “How much it cost for you to teach Nathan that?”

He smiles right back, too easily for just saying no to something he wanted so much, like he didn’t just reject Jared’s hopeful face. “Get him into the winter camps. He’s good for a beginner. But he could be better. I see some promise.”

His hands fumble the ball back and forth and Jared’s lips curl. “Thanks.” He nods and motions the ball between them. “For this, too.”

“Consider it a consolation prize.” Jared looks at him oddly. “I’ll be an awesome coach.”

*

The next two weeks are rough. Jared still comes, and they still smile and joke around, but it never lasts as long as it had earlier in the season. And he knows it’s because they always reach this point where Jared wants to say more, but knows he can’t. Knows he shouldn’t.

Sandy brings Nathan for the last practice and she gives him a careful smile and tiny nod, like she’s thanking him for not saying yes to Jared. It hurts, but at least he can smile at Nathan and know that the kid is still sane and won’t be mixing up any feelings about seeing his coach outside of soccer. 

He announces to the whole team and the parents that he’s having his annual season-ending BBQ at his house, and invites them all, says he’ll hand out trophies then and he even drops hints about winter camps and the spring leagues. He doesn’t like to sell it and make it seem like a trap – I’ll feed you food then convince you sign your kids up for more rec leagues. He just likes the kids this year, even Chrissy, now that she’s accepted that teams win and lose, and yeah, winning is more fun, but it’s okay to lose, too. And he wants more kids participating in the sport, and learning, and getting better and just all around loving it the way he does. 

At the end of their last game, he takes a knee among the team and shares big smiles and great words about how well they played this year and how proud he is of how far they’ve all come along. And like he always does at this moment, during the year-end speech on the field, he gets wet, stinging eyes as he sees the excitement in all the little faces for enjoying the fall league and getting so excited for his BBQ and their trophies. 

The kids and various siblings are shrieking around his huge backyard while parents laugh and mingle and bend his ear over their kids’ play and potential for next season. Each and every time, he tells them about the winter leagues and encourages every single parent to keep their kids involved. “Even just a ball around the yard. Keep ‘em playing,” he smiles to them all. “I’m not begging you to join the indoor camps, but it won’t hurt.”

He’s enjoying the afternoon, and most of all he enjoys watching everyone have a good time. Glad that he can give this party to a good group of kids and parents who mostly left him alone – there are always a few over-zealous parents who beg for more playing time, but this year was pretty damned good. He wishes he could keep them all for another year, but knows that most of them are on the cusp to transfer from pee wee to juniors next year. He’ll get over it. He always does.

*

Jensen can’t miss Jared. He’s literally head and shoulders above everyone, and his laugh is loud and happy. If he wasn’t such a nice guy, such a funny guy, that laugh would be obnoxious. But it’s not. And Jensen hadn’t realized how much he’d missed it over the last two weeks while keeping distance from Jared. 

When he gets near Jared, the guy turns and smirks before looking a little guilty. “Hey,” he nods. Jensen smiles and nods back. “I promised Nathan I’d come.” His voice drops a little, “Not like I’m trying to trap you or anything.”

He takes a moment to think then smiles with a playful curve. “You did show up at my house. It's a little bit creepy.”

Jared nods with a hidden smirk. “No, I know. But didn’t think I could explain to my seven-year-old why it would be inappropriate for me to be here.”

Jensen instantly waves a hand and shakes his head with a smile. “No, don’t worry. It’s cool.” Before he can think better of it, he pats Jared’s arm and squeezes for a quick moment before moving away. “Glad you could make it.”

He nods again then breaks suddenly. “You _are_ an awesome coach.”

“Hmm?” Jensen sounds as he turns back to Jared. 

“You said you’d be an awesome coach for Nathan. As consolation? But you already are. Especially for … you know,” he says nervously, twirling a hand in the air. “You were right about that. So right. And I really appreciate that. Putting Nathan first.”

Jensen clears his throat as he looks around, making sure no one can hear them. It seems everyone else is focused on their conversations and the kids. He moves closer so it stays that way. It takes him time to work it out, but he finally says. “You’re a great dad. And that’s … that’s almost better than anything else about you. If I wasn’t Nathan’s coach, I would’ve definitely said yes.”

Jared’s face softens, torn between a smile and a frown, and Jensen knows how that feels. It’s exactly what he did when he had to say no to Jared. 

*

Most of the crowd is gone and Jensen’s cleaning up his family room, handling as many empty pop cans and plates as he can when he’s got company in the form of Jared helping to clear some more things away. “Oh, hey,” he smirks, trying to ignore how startled he is.

“Didn’t want to leave without helping a little.”

Jensen crushes most of the things in his arms to his chest and just watches Jared. “You don’t have to. I’m sure you gotta get Nathan home.”

Jared turns to the kitchen and deposits all the garbage he’d collected. “Sandy took him home.” He stands up and watches Jensen slowly move into the room. Jensen is unnerved by the gaze, because it’s steady and intense but he can’t break from it. Even when Jared carefully pulls the cans and plates away Jensen and tosses them into the can. 

There are no big words and nothing that really triggers them. They just keep staring in the kitchen until Jensen turns towards the hallway and leans his ear out. 

“Everyone’s gone,” Jared says quietly. 

Jensen stares back, getting it so clearly right now. He swallows and feels weak because all he does is give a small nod to set Jared off before he’s crowding Jensen’s space and dipping down for a soft kiss. Jared’s hands are hanging in the air near Jensen’s arms, like he wants to grab him but doesn’t know if he should. Jensen moves forward for another kiss, sucking gently on lips then tilting away to kiss at another direction, just feeling it out and wanting to discover the best angle.

He finds that when Jared’s head is tipped away from his, a little to the right, he can notch his mouth just a little off-center so that the tongues swipe in a near perfect pattern and the lips edge around teeth and he doesn’t want to move from the moment. Because the kissing is way beyond what he’d imagined for all these weeks of staring at Jared’s mouth. 

Jared’s hands slip under his arms, resting at the bottom of his shoulder blades, pressing in with fingertips that are insistent and kneading. Jensen holds Jared’s slim waist and pushes himself against Jared’s broad chest, and just takes this moment as what it can be. A moment. He’s willing it to be so good to satisfy his want, but not so great that he’ll beg for it again, because he has to be sensible about it. Has to keep some distance. But he wants this one night right here. 

Jensen mumbles against Jared’s mouth. “We do this, you gonna take away my awesome coach status?”

He smirks against Jensen and walks them to the wall so he can lean against him and work the kisses exactly how he wants. “I do that and you’ll have to strip me of my great dadness.”

“Strip, yeah,” Jensen mumbles. 

They go on kissing more, getting deeper and more intense, but keeping it there. Like high school makeouts, and Jensen loves the feel of Jared covering him, his large palms roaming his back and how the tongue is warm and insistent against his own. It goes on for so long, Jensen doesn’t know how long, but he doesn’t want to stop it. He does want to set a record for this, and keep it going as long as possible just so it’s not over. 

“Is it true what they say,” Jared murmurs with his forehead pressed into Jensen’s. “About soccer players having great leg muscles?”

Jensen wants to know when they stopped kissing and why Jared’s talking. “Are you kidding me?”

Jared pushes on Jensen, forcing him harder into the wall. “I am totally serious about two things. My son. And blowjobs.”

 _Oh fuck_ Jensen whimpers to himself while pushing his hips right back at Jared’s. He nearly groans at the rock solid bulge in Jared’s jeans. “You asked about my legs …”

His hands go away from Jensen’s hips, fingers sweeping over the swell of his ass and then pressing tight into his upper thighs. “Well, yeah. ‘Cause I’ll be right there.” He squeezes again and nips at Jensen’s mouth. “That okay?”

Jensen nods numbly. “It’s more than okay.”

Before he realizes it, his jeans are unbuttoned and moving down to his ankles, along with Jared who’s suddenly kneeling and sweeping his palms over Jensen’s ass then down the back of his thighs. He presses his fingers in, squeezing while thumbs swipe against Jensen’s skin. Jared leans back a little and stares at his thighs, which is a little weird, considering his dick is red and hard and, like, right there. “Jesus, Jen,” he whispers while grabbing tighter to his legs. “These muscles.”

“Hey, uh,” Jensen nearly chokes. “Can you take care of that other muscle?” Jared looks up with a smirk and Jensen lamely adds, “Please?”

The second Jared’s mouth takes Jensen down, his hands shoot right into Jared’s hair, threading through and closing around tendrils, like he’d imagined that very first day. “Oh, fuck ... _Jesus_ ,” Jensen pants as Jared moves up and down, tongue swiping over and over, bobbing. So many different sensations that Jensen can’t properly log them all in his mind. All he knows is that it’s wet and hot and loud and _Jared_ , and he curls his fingers tighter in his hair as his hips swing with Jared’s pace and then his mouth drops open and his head falls forward so he can watch Jared shift and swallow as Jensen comes without a second’s warning. 

Jared strokes Jensen’s thighs a few times before he stands and leans against him, kissing slow and messy all while smiling against Jensen’s mouth. “Been wanting to do since I first saw you.’

He rests his head back on the wall and watches Jared’s smile. “That’s kinda pervy. Your son was there.”

With a laugh, Jared smacks at Jensen’s thigh. “Still true.”

“You’re a liar,” Jensen smirks. 

Jared’s hand slips behind him, fingers running down his crack and covering his hole. “Yeah, you’re right. Wanted this.”

He bucks against him and chuckles. “Alright. But how ‘bout a breather? Just shot my brains out my dick. I need some time.”

“I really hope you don’t talk like that in front my kid.”

Jensen chuckles but then brightens up and gives him a thoughtful smile. “Nathan’ll be eight.”

His hands wrap around Jensen’s waist as he mouths along Jensen’s jaw. “Usually how it goes. One year after another.”

“He’ll be in juniors.”

“And?” 

Jensen’s fingers slink into Jared’s hair again and he smiles. “Won’t be on my team anymore.”

Jared moves back into his eyesight and stares. “You’re happy about ditching my kid?”

“I won’t be his coach. I can be … whatever,” he adds with a shrug. 

One eyebrow goes high then another, and soon enough, Jared’s mouth follows as he leans close to kiss. “You’ll be Just Jensen.”

“Yeah, exactly,” Jensen smiles back.


End file.
